


Bonding

by PurpleSinner



Category: Saints Row
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Gen, Humor, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 09:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2145666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleSinner/pseuds/PurpleSinner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since Carlos mostly keeps to himself Raphael decides to show him a good time the only way he knows how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bonding

**Author's Note:**

> My first actual fanfiction in years, and I decide to take a stab at something funny. Probably not that funny, but I tried.

Despite constantly working himself to the bone, Raphael always made time for some relaxation. Given, this time normally consisted of him doing drug trafficking or some other illicit activity; he insisted that it was his “Raff Time”. Being the newly appointed leader of the Third Street Saints kept him pretty busy. Whether is was making sure that Shaundi wasn't smoking all of the Loa Dust, Keeping Johnny from getting himself murdered in an attempt to slice-n-dice all of the Ronin, or interrupting Pierce from playing international super spy.

Carlos never got into much trouble though, especially for being as young as he is. When Raphael was his age he as doing... Well... A lot of stuff that no one should ever do. Raphael had half a mind to believe that his young friend might be just a bit defective.

Of course Raphael was being a good Samaritan about it. He managed to control himself from voicing his thoughts about how it's possible that Carlos might have a large stick or some other equally uncomfortable object stuck up his rear. Being a good Samaritan also included trying to fix said defective friend.

“Carlos Time” is what the Boss referred to it as. Not much was wrong about the name except that its namesake didn't exactly enjoy it when the Boss shouted that it was “Carlos Time” from atop of the staircase in the hideout. It was even worse when the hideout was full of the other Saints. Carlos didn't appreciate their snickering as he walked by one bit.

The Boss usually made up for it though with whatever outing he had planning for them for the day. Especially when it involved hitting up the Fight Club for a good brawl.

Other days didn't work out so well. These were normally the days when Raphael volunteered to chauffeur around a hooker and her client.

Today just so happened to be one of those days. Raphael didn't think he'd ever seen his friend's such an adorable shade of red before. This included the time he'd offered to buy a special lap dance for Carlos. He was taking this like a champ though, and Raphael was a proud papa.

“Hey Boss. Isn't that a news van?”

Raphael peered into the rear view mirror. Sure enough, a Channel 6 news van was steadily speeding up behind them. Who in the hell decided that it would be a good idea to give news vans so much horsepower? He'd have to remember to hijack one sometime. Could come in handy.

“Looks like it. Hang on!”

If there were ever a thing worse than the Boss high off his fucking rocks, it would be his driving. This goes doubly for his speeding.

The hooker in the backseat made a screeching noise not akin to the screeching the tires made as Raphael slammed down on the gas pedal and swerved around a semi truck, narrowly missing clipping the wall. Overpasses sure didn't have a lot of maneuvering room.

Two more news vans appeared in front of them and Raphael executed a quite an impressive slide around them. He seemed rather proud of himself.

“Hey, Carlos! Did you see that—Carlos? You okay, man?”

Whereas Carlos was colored scarlet just five minutes ago he seemed devoid of all color now. He his shoved between his knees.

“You might want to sit up in case we run into anymore news vans.”

Carlos prayed to the high heavens that they wouldn't.

“And put your seat belt on, fool! Unless you wanna get dead!”

With a groan, Carlos did as he was told and held onto the door handle for dear life.

God forbid someone actually did die while Raphael was driving. He was joking about it now, but he'd probably cry for weeks on end if it ever did happen. He was that kind of guy.

The rest of the ride consisted of two more run-ins with news vans before they made it back to the hideout. Surprisingly in one piece.

Carlos was thoroughly wiped and ready for a cold shower. Raphael seemed to be as chipper as ever. It annoyed Carlos to an extent.

“THAT was fun! We need to do it again sometime! Right Carlos?”

Raphael's question was left unanswered as he looked over to see the small form of his friend retreating into the abandoned mission.

'Huh... Must be going to tell the others about how great today was'

The sound of an opening door brought Raphael's attention to the hooker and sleazy old man scrambling out of the back of the car before taking off out of the parking lot.

“Hey! Come back here, puta! You owe me my money!”


End file.
